


Patience is a Virtue -- Laurens

by PhaedrusOfAthens



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda, Historical RPF
Genre: Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, Hand Jobs, Lams - Freeform, M/M, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Top John Laurens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 07:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11778108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhaedrusOfAthens/pseuds/PhaedrusOfAthens
Summary: Because I couldn't decide on a POV, I did both. This one is a Laurens POV. Read Hamilton POV here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11778144





	Patience is a Virtue -- Laurens

**Author's Note:**

> Because I couldn't decide on a POV, I did both. This one is a Laurens POV. Read Hamilton POV here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11778144

“Alexander, please, stop,” I pleaded again. His non-stop talking had been a continuous stream since we left the General’s headquarters to walk to the tavern in town. I had suggested a drink in the hopes that it would quell the surge of words spewing forth from his mouth, but as we neared the tavern, I sensed that hope quickly dwindling.

“How can you stay so silent?” he fumed. “You could speak up too.” His freckled face was growing red with anger. 

I took a deep breath and held back any words I might regret saying. I knew he was merely lashing out in a moment of frustration, but his attack hurt nonetheless. With that thought in my mind, I opened the door to the tavern teasingly saying, “ Après toi, mon petit lion.” He squinched his face and a certain satisfaction filled me as I knew that nickname irritated him. Nevertheless, he entered without further comment. 

We took a seat by the door and somehow managed to wrangle some whiskey from the overcrowded bar. Alexander held the cup thoughtfully in his hand for moment and opened his mouth as if he was about to expound on the virtues of whiskey, but thankfully shut it again before guzzling it down in one gulp. He must have seen my surprised face as he slurred out, “Impressed?” with a smirk on his face. I just rolled my eyes as I sipped my own whiskey.

“Doesn’t it bother you that we’re merely there to hear Washington’s wrath? I’ve written piles of correspondence, but all I hear from  _ His Excellency _ is ‘Colonel Hamilton this’ and ‘Colonel Hamilton that’.” Alexander growled, again growing angry. I realized now why he had drunk his whiskey so quickly: to free his mouth for more talking. I feared the whiskey may have even loosened his tongue.  

“Alexander, I implore you, keep your voice down,” I begged. Even in a room so loud, there was always a risk of someone overhearing such insubordination.

He looked at me with defiance in his eyes, but thankfully uttered, “Fine.” Perhaps the whiskey  _ was _ helping. 

I finished what little I had left in my cup and said, “Perhaps it’s time to retire for the evening. Washington did keep us later than usual.” It wasn’t untrue, Washington really had kept us later than usual; however, I didn’t want to run the risk of Alexander running his mouth off a little too loudly. 

If Alexander had pieced together why I really wanted to leave, he didn’t let on and thankfully replied, “Let’s go.”

As we meandered back to our quarters, Alexander continued to talk stumbling over his words from the whiskey. I didn’t expect one drink to have such an effect on him, but I attributed it to his anger and the fact that he had skipped supper to work on some final letters.

“Alex,” I started, “you say you want me to speak up in these meetings, but, just like now, you never give me to opportunity to talk.”

“ _ Jack _ , I-” he said mockingly, but then stopped.

“Yes?” I asked, surprised at the brief reprieve. 

“I’m sorry,” he said simply. “I know I talk too much.”

Although the apology seemed sincere, the effect didn’t last long. I may have had an abundance of patience, but mine was quickly wearing out.

As we neared the door to our quarters, I abruptly interrupted his constant babble, “Alex, hush. I’m sure Lafayette is already sleeping.”

I opened the door and ushered him inside with a guiding hand on his shoulder. He opened his mouth to say something, but it was silenced with a “shush” motion from me. As we snuck past Lafayette’s room, I noticed him sprawled on his cot fast asleep.

Immediately after entering our room, Alexander divested himself of his jacket and angrily grabbed at the knot of his cravat. As his neck was exposed, I saw the bruise from a previous dalliance of his in town. A pang of jealousy shot through me, but more than that, I wanted to add another to it. 

“Laurens, what are you looking at?” he smirked at me while unbuttoning his waistcoat. “I thought you said you wanted to go to sleep,” he said, grabbing playfully at my coat.

My seemingly endless patience finally ran out. I grabbed his wrist where he had been tugging at the blue wool of my coat and I saw a glimpse of fear or eagerness flash across his face. I shut the door of our room with my foot as my other hand found the ribbon in his hair to let loose his ginger curls. I wove my fingers into his hair and pulled his head to the side to expose his neck. I heard a low groan come from his throat which only served to bolster my confidence. He smelled of linen and sweat and it was completely intoxicating, more than any whiskey could ever do. As I tasted the saltiness of his neck, I heard him growl, “Laurens--”

“Shh,” I urged, dropping his wrist. He grabbed the lapel of my coat and pulled me closer. 

“Laurens, I-” Alexander started.

“Alex, stop talking,” I warned. My hand dropped to the flap on his breeches and I smirked back at him as I saw his lips part but no words come out. “Finally,” I whispered in his ear.

I felt him shudder beneath me as my hand massaged deeper into his groin eliciting a strangled “Lau-” from the usually feisty man I had so firmly in my control. The man who so rarely grants anyone friendship, let alone his power, submitted so easily to a well-placed squeeze. 

He moved his hand down my waistcoat following the long line of buttons and tried in vain to return the favor I was currently giving him, but distraction proved too worthy an adversary as he weakly pressed his fingers into my arousal. I took my hand from his hair and pushed him slowly against the wall where he somehow seemed smaller to me. As if reading my mind and attempting to remedy that illusion, he cocked his head and said smugly, “Were you getting too tired of holding me up?”

“I’m anticipating the need for both of my hands,” I retorted smartly. Feeling an unusual pleasure at the enraptured stare that overtook the cocky smile, I slowly moved in for a deep kiss. Alexander’s hands moved to my coat eagerly grabbing at the lapels to remove it from shoulders, but he laughed softly into our kiss as he struggled to completely remove my coat from my arms.

“Shh,” I admonished again while removing my coat and letting it drop to the floor. As I backed away to start unbuttoning my waistcoat, Alexander moved forward from the wall with a show to help me undress as if daring me to push him back; a challenge which I was certainly ready to accept. 

“Back against the wall,” I growled with a firmness that I hoped would leave little doubt as to my true intentions. Alexander stared back at me with defiance and I could only assume he was contemplating whether to follow my order or press my patience any further. God,  _ everything  _ was a challenge to him. He was taking too long to decide.

So I decided for him.

I heard him grunt as I pushed him back to the wall a little rougher than I originally intended. I paused to ensure Lafayette was still sleeping in the next room and when I didn’t hear a stir, I turned my attention back to the eagerly awaiting Alexander. Alexander with that smug smile still on his face.

My waistcoat would have to wait. I moved my knee between his legs just below his groin and my hand back down to the flap on his breeches pressing deeper with fingers. I leaned against the wall behind him with my other hand as I felt his arousal beneath me. He grabbed feebly at my waistcoat as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands and moved to untie my loosened cravat letting it flutter to the floor. I felt a wetness growing on his breeches and removed my hand.

His brow furrowed as he began trying to grind against my knee to make up for the pressure that was suddenly lost, but I moved my leg out of the way. 

“Laurens…” he whispered desperately. 

“I’ve half a mind to leave you like this,” I replied and savored the look that came across his face. I let him ponder that thought for a moment as I finally removed my waistcoat and boots. He followed suit letting his boots clunk loudly to the floor and I flinched at that sudden noise that broke the silence.

“God, you are such a--” but I chose not to finish that sentence. Instead, I grasped at the fabric of his shirt and pulled it over his head revealing his athletic frame. 

“Off,” I said pointing to his breeches. This time he didn’t hesitate as he fumbled with the buttons and let them drop to the floor. With only his stockings still on, he might have looked almost comical if not for the obvious arousal between his legs. If love had brought me to this point, it was lust that was continuing it. 

I pointed to his stockings and he must have noticed how amusing he probably looked and blushed as he quickly removed them and bunched them in a ball -- an unusual action from the man who took such care of his clothes.

I stepped back to admire the man before me. Even just standing there, he had a strange control over me that I couldn’t deny and it showed as a sudden twitch under my breeches. 

He grinned.

“Hush, you,” I said regaining my composure. 

“I didn’t say anything,” he replied through his grin.

I started towards him and grasped his hair behind his head with one hand as another found his...nose. The tip was already slick with pre-cum as I stroked its length. Satisfaction filled me as I listened to him moan while I continued to increase pressure and speed suddenly feeling the familiar hot stickiness discharge in my hand and leak onto my thigh. I wiped my palm on my breeches knowing I’d already have to wash them now.

“Fuck, Laurens,” Alexander somehow managed to whisper. The vulgarity of the words took me by surprise, but then again, if there ever was an appropriate time for those words, it was now. 

I led him to the bed and seated him on the edge. I removed my stockings and shirt in a slow but deliberate manner trying to push  _ his _ patience to the limit for once and left my breeches on for the moment. His face twisted in hunger.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked in a low voice. 

I walked to where he was seated on the edge of the bed working my way between his legs. As I stood before him looking down, he peered up at me biting his lip. I closed my eyes and ran my fingers through his hair while he deftly unbuttoned my breeches. A moan escaped my lips as his mouth found its target and I gripped his hair tighter trying to remain upright as he hummed softly into his motions.

Alexander continued his impassioned movements with a fervor and commitment he usually saved for writing. I let out an undignified grunt as he brought me close to completion and tried to tell him so, but he remained relentless nonetheless. 

“Alex-” I shuddered trying to catch my breath. He gazed up at me again, his lips moist with a mixture of my cum and his spit. I moved from between his legs and laid down behind him beckoning him to follow suit. 

He turned to me and looked at the stain on my thigh. “Looks like I owe you some breeches,” he laughed softly. I snickered at the thought of me wearing his much smaller articles of clothing and he smiled back; a soft and satisfied smile.


End file.
